


Catharsis

by breathe_out



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: First Meetings, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:35:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22638532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breathe_out/pseuds/breathe_out
Summary: Shane drinks his depression away at the saloon. The newcomer sits with him and makes the night a little less lonely.
Relationships: Shane/Male Player (Stardew Valley)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 116





	Catharsis

No one wants to deal with somebody that has depression. At least, that’s what Shane believes. He’s a burden on his family; he is tiny, stupid, insignificant, _gay_. He takes another cautious drink from his mug. The glass is pleasantly cool under his palms. The alcohol is slowly drowning out the thoughts in his head and replacing them with a mind-numbing buzz. It’s only three in the afternoon, but he’s already drunk. Gus is pretending to wipe down the bar counter and glancing worriedly at him. The saloon is completely empty besides himself and the older man. Shane stares back unapologetically. Gus should be thanking him for keeping the place open. 

Suddenly, a fresh summer breeze cuts through the stale air. Gus snaps his head up to greet the newcomer. Shane looks away and focuses on the dregs of his drink. It’s likely just Pam; she’s always stopping by for ale and putting more money than she can afford onto her tab. 

Shane’s ears are ringing when someone sits near him. He absently notices that Gus is preparing a pizza to cook in the oven. 

“Hi.”

He nearly jumps when a man’s soft voice disturbs the quiet. Shane glares up at the stranger and stops with his lips parted. It’s as if time abruptly ceases to exist. Words – unreasonably harsh and cruel – die on the tip of his tongue and wilt into nothing. The newcomer’s startling cerulean irises catch his breath. He’s never seen such beautiful eyes on another man before. He’s smiling at Shane shyly, with both of his elbows propped on the top of the counter. His brown hair curls in soft waves that hug the tips of his ears and end at the nape of his neck. He has freckles across the bridge of his nose. 

The man averts his gaze, and that’s when Shane notices that he was openly staring at the poor guy. He shakes himself out of his trance and contorts his features back into the well-known scowl that everyone recognized. 

“I don’t know you.” He grumbles, taking a long sip from his mug. The alcohol soothes his nerves. 

“I’m Adam.” He says, his hand hovering between them.

Shane rolls his eyes and pointedly ignores his hand. “Shane.” 

Adam drops his hand. “Nice to meet you, Shane.” 

The way Adam pronounces his name – so delicate, like each syllable is glass – makes his heart beat faster. He suspects that the fireplace at his back is making him feel too warm. 

Shane swivels around to inspect the rest of the saloon. His irritation rises when he notices that every single chair in the room is empty besides the seat next to him. 

“Why are you sitting with me?” He asks.

Adam’s fingers toy with a loose thread on his jeans. “I don’t know. Why shouldn’t I?” He watches Gus take the pizza out and cut it into slices. It’s steaming when he finally sets it in front of Adam. 

Shane huffs in thinly veiled annoyance, but he’s not sure how to appropriately answer Adam’s question. Ever since he moved into Marnie’s, it’s always been an unspoken rule. Everyone in Pelican town knows better than to approach him. They let him stew in his loneliness and, in return, he keeps them at arm’s length so that he won’t disappoint them. 

Adam takes a bite out of a slice of his pizza and turns to Shane. His question is muffled through a mouthful of food. “Do you want some? It’s pepperoni.” 

Shane’s stomach growls, and he isn’t one to decline free food, so he reaches over to steal a slice for himself. Adam nudges the plate between them to share. He sinks his teeth into the cheesy dough and sighs. Gus makes the best pizza in the entire valley. 

For once, Shane is not focusing on his rampant thoughts, nor chasing the enticing buzz of alcohol. In fact, his mind his reeling with unspoken words and feelings that he hasn’t experienced in months. Adam, this complete and utter stranger with pretty eyes and soft hair, has chosen to sit by the town drunkard and share his pizza with him. It feels unreal to Shane; who would ever want to spend a single second with him? He’s a waste of space, a body without purpose, and yet Adam has already shown him a kindness that no one in the entirety of Stardew Valley ever did.

But part of him still hesitates to appreciate Adam’s generosity. Shane is a deep, dark pit of self-loathing and hatred. The mere idea of another person sharing his company is anxiety inducing. Besides, he’s a total screw up. Every time he dares to try and break out of his empty shell, something horrible shoves him back inside. His mood is an unexplainable swinging pendulum that never stays still. He can awaken one morning with a sense of delicious happiness that may last the day, or (more often than not) an incredible despondency that leaves him under the covers in a darkened room. The latter is a debilitating, miserable state of mind that makes everything gray and worthless. It’s this depressive condition that has isolated him from everyone else. 

Everyone normal.

Once Adam really gets to know him, he’ll realize how broken Shane is.

So, Shane finishes his singular slice of pizza and hunches over his empty mug in silence. He can hear Adam shifting beside him and Emily giggling at something Gus said. The jukebox in the corner plays a continuous loop of the same old song that drives him crazy. 

“You okay, Shane?” 

Adam’s leaning forward on the bar stool and looking at him with concern. 

Shane’s hands grip into fists as his irritation peaks. “Why are you talking to me?” He spits.

Adam doesn’t flinch away like he expects him to, but his brows furrow and he lowers his head. Shane watches him, feeling curious and angry and guilty all at the same time. He’s silently berating himself for coming to the saloon today; for leaving the house; for waking up in the first fucking place.

Adam wrings his hands together and stares at his lap as he speaks. “I don’t know,” He says again, “You just looked lonely.”

And in an instant, Shane’s anger is quelled by those four simple words. They’re words that he never expected to hear from another human being; words that seem too intimate to admit aloud between two strangers. The sensitive air surrounding them dissipates, leaving nothing but the warm heat of the fire that glows behind them. Adam glances at Shane’s face, and whatever he sees must encourage him to meet his eyes. Shane sees nothing but understanding reflecting back at him.

Shane isn’t sure of anything at this point. His vision seems to tunnel until the only thing he’s really seeing is Adam. Adam, who’s freckles dot his cheeks; who’s curly hair looks so soft; who is kind enough to share his meal with a stranger; who is the first person to look at Shane and not through him.

Although the saloon gets livelier as the sun sets, they hardly notice anyone else’s presence. They speak in hushed tones with long lapses of silence, but it’s never uncomfortable for either of them. Throughout the rest of the evening, they drink and eat pizza - together.


End file.
